Ramblings of a Warped Mind: Intersections Between Weird and Wicked
by serbesaaa
Summary: "I like you." She said, face calm and stoic, and I just stood there, mouth agape and mind racing. It would be helluva romantic only if she hadn't made it so awkward. "I gonna give you a second, to let that sink in." Well, fuck. (Long ass name, but read it. It's worth a shot.) (Re-edited)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is just something my friend and I cooked up, and he wanted me to post it. He's terminally ill, and so I let myself be bossed around by him. He really liked fiction and shit, and right now, with whiskey and cigarettes, I find solace.**

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Ramblings of a Warped Mind: The Intersection Between

Weird and Wicked.

Chapter 1: Chesire

I'm trying to not cry right now.

But seriously, I'm being chased by my brother. And that is not good. I don't like it when my brother chases me. Especially when he wants to eat me alive.

So, no. I don't like what's happening to me right now, and I do not appreciate my being chased by a zombie. It's not that fun, like in the games, you know. In my mind, if there was ever going to be a zombie apocalypse, I'm going to be that super cool person that cuts of zombie heads with my bare hands, but right now, I'm kinda regretting that I'm not. So, I'm going to.. uh summarize why this happened.

I was walking to—no, I was on my skateboard. I was skating over towards Wal-Mart, where my brother wanted me to pick up some.. stuff. For him. As the ever responsible and stupid sibling, I did go there, only to find when I get home that my brother wanted to eat me. Alive. And I try to talk to him, thinking he was just high from weed, some shit like that. Anyhoo, I ran towards the bathroom, closing the door behind me and locking it- hey, is that Brittany from school? Uh, returning to my.. story, so I got into the loo, picking up a rubber duck. I don't know why, though. So I throw it away, getting the toilet lid instead. He was breaking the door down, and I was proud for him, I never knew he had it in him. He was incredibly scrawny, and he couldn't break that door down if he was just his normal self. Trust me. So, he broke it down, and as I always see in zombie movies, I hit it on the head. Well, bash, actually. I tear up a little, but quickly gain my resolve it when I remembered he was a heartless son of a bitch and he always woke me up with a bucket of cold water and put Jalapeño in my cereal.

So, yeah. I hate my brother.

But he's still alive for some reason, maybe because the lid broke first before his head did. So that brings us to my current predicament:

I can't seem to shake my brother off.

I run to the woods, which is actually not a bad idea, and I have a few pros and cons about it. I'll send you a PD- oh yeah. Zombie apocalypse. I'll just recite it instead.

"I DON'T KNOW WHERE I'M FUCKIN' GOING!"

There. And I just remembered one more thing I learned from zombie movies. Noise attracts them. Damn. I climb up a tree, 'cause I don't have anymore better ideas, but it actually helps me, 'cause they can't climb and I'm safe and sound up here. I can't believe I don't have anything but my skateboard with me. I'm so stupid. And it's down... there. I look down, actually groaning in exasperation when I see my brother with a few other buddies. I'm proud of him again, 'cause he's not actually a social butterfly, and what do you know? It only takes a zombie apocalypse for him to make BFFs.

And people say I think too much. Meh.

At some point, I fell asleep, one of my legs dangling in mid air. Good thing I was wearing borrowed (which may or may not mean I have stolen them) jeans, or my leg will be a beautiful sight of flesh, meat and veins. Not exactly pretty, yeah? I pull up my legs, and look down at the persistent little shits, feeling incredibly unique and well, alone. I've always been alone, be it Fireside Girls, Dodge ball, even Xbox live.

I'm pathetic.

The sun is rising, so that means I've been in this tree like a chipmunk for a day. I climb up higher, for my brother and his homies to not see me anymore, but I doubt myself. My hair is practically a beacon to them, being an annoying red color. I'm ginger, don't judge, you pieces of shit. Okay, while I'm up here, I'll tell you all about me.

The names' Gail 'Ale' Parker. Age: 23. Parents: deceased. Eye color: blue and grey.(hetero-chromatic. Cool, right?)hair color: blood red. It's weird. Others, Nah. You probably don't want to know about that. I'm-was-majoring in history, but nobody likes history except old, bald men. I was born in Florida, but when my parents died, my brother, John Parker took me in Georgia, Macon. My life wasn't rainbows and sunshine. At all. My parents was abusive, my brother loved pot, I had to pay for my own schooling. Kinda sad. But I had a distraction from all of that.

Yeah, video games.

Predictable, yeah? I'm actually one of those people that pretend they're a guy, online. For equality, kudos. And I think I'm hallucinating 'cause the zambies- that's what I'm going to call them- are calling me. They're like "Girl," and I'm sure zambies don't talk. And most certainly the don't have sexy southern accent. "Girl!"

"My name is not 'girl', zambie. Leave me alone, and let me be insane," I deadpan, closing my eyes a bit. Yeah, a nap would be really, really good right now. "GIRL!" I jump up, almost falling from my tree when the zambies shout- hey. There's a person there.

I'm going fucking insane.

"Get down there fore' the geeks go down on us." I look at him, not believing my eyes. "Nuh-uh. I'm going to die here. 'Cause I'm going insane and I'm- you're really a person?" The man eyed me with those brown eyes, and I notice he has a crossbow.

Cool, a crossbow!

"Girl, do I not look like a person to yah'? Is yer standards that high?" he snapped, looking around possibly for zambies. "Don't get your panties up on a bunch, I'm goin', I'm goin'" I hastily, carefully go down the tree, and- the fucking branch broke.

"SWEET BABY JESUS!" I scream, flailing my arms around for a grip, or something that might save my life. I hit my head on a particulary hard branch, and I see stars. Sadly, finding no branch in my concussed state, I just close my eyes, telling myself to immediately go to the light if I ever saw it.

"Easy, Carrot Top."

I open my eyes to find myself in the muscly arms of the man, immediately feeling blood rush up to my cheeks. I kinda wanna pass out right now. "Please don't— don't call me that," I get out of his hold, saving what was left of my dignity.

In this case, was none.

"Let's go," he said suddenly, his eyes alert and his hand pulling mine along. I feel like a school girl for god's sake. I let him drag me along, my mind in a haze. I really have a concussion. "Stop. Mr.." I slur, the surroundings swirling in a nauseous vortex, and I drop to my knees, vomiting what little food that was inside my stomach. "C'mon, no time to be girly," he tugged at my hand, and I glare at him best I can, drawling "I'm concussed, you..you..fiend,"

I don't really know what happened next.

Good lord, this girl is really proving to be a pain in the ass. "Hey. Carrot Top. Don't, don't go on me," I hiss, looking around for any lurking walkers I didn't swipe out. "Yeah. More work fer me," I pick her up in my arms, surprised by her lightness. "Why the _hell_ am I doin' this?" I run, not looking back. There was a steady stream of blood flowing from her forehead, and she really is concussed. I feel my crossbow bouncing on my back painfully, but all I really want to do is to hole up in a shack and drink beer til' I pass out. I see a small run down house in the distance, and I smile.

Jackpot.

I enter it quickly, almost throwing the possibly brain damaged girl on the ratty bed, I opted to put her down a little gently. She slowly stirred awake as I pressed a hand on her forehead, stemming the bleeding. Her eyes opened, the blue retina blown wide, wider than it should be, really comforting me that she doesn't have a concussion. But I already know that. I sat her up, tipping her head down. Her red hair immediately tumbled down, she reached out to me, trying to probably touch my face, but missing epically. "He'lo.. mistah.."

Yep. Concussion.

Her bleeding was gradually slowing, and thank the Lord Merle always had one, or else this girl will be fatally damaged. "M'Aleeeee.." she slurred, finding something funny. "Sorry, Carrot Top. I dun' have ginger ale," I say quietly, wrapping her head in gauze that I found in one of the drawers. "Naw.. mah names.. **ALEEEEEE**.." she said a little clearly, her head pressing on my shoulder for comfort. "You.. have a.. bad ass crossbaw," she giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck. I flinched, and she pulled away, closing her eyes. "Please don't hurt me, papa," she said in a small, scared voice, curling into a fetal position. "I'm sorry," she said before falling to sleep. Well, I think her concussion is gone, atleast. Without thinking about it, I pushed her sunset colored hair from her forehead. I recoil, mentally slapping myself.

I just met her!

I dreamt about my pa hitting me again. I wanted to just cuddle up my dog and cry. Like I always did when he hit me. I wake up in a small, run-down shack, not really remembering anything that happened.

Oh yeah. My brother turned into a zambie.

I groan pitifully, my head pounding so hard I felt the vibrations violently. "Huh. Figures. Mr. Crossbow left me." I say, remembering my savior from last night. "I'm right ere' Pepper." I turn my head to the man's direction, who was currently holding his crossbow in his hand. "Oh. Hi, then." I smile lightly, standing up and shaking my head. "I need aspirin." I deadpan, holding onto a chair for support. "We need ta go, the walkers might stumble ere'" he said hurriedly, not looking at me before he went out, his crossbow up and loaded. I look around for a possible weapon, my eyes settling on a small, rusty knife.

Well, beggars can't be choosers.

I follow him outside, my eyes temporarily blinded by the light. It's like I have a fucking hangover. "Were goin' in," he said, pointing to the entrance of Atlanta, about a mile away from where they are. "Lucky we ain't deep nough' into the woods, cuz' that'd be a bummer." He mumbled to himself, walking before her in quick, graceful steps. I have never been graceful, since ever. I watch my footsteps, frowning as I felt my feet ache a little. My converses were comfy from being used too much, but I just feel tired to the bones, for some reason. I play with the rusty blade of my little knife, whistling as I followed the man. It hit me that I was following a complete stranger. Biting my lip, I ran up to him, taking a real look at him, he was really, really attractive, a rough stubble on his chin and on his upper lip, and his eyes weren't actually brown, they were a beautiful shade of baby blue. His tousled dirty brown hair completed the look, and God thought it best to put that head on a hot body. I blush a beet red, opening my mouth to say something but then closing it. Finally mustering up the courage to talk to the man who was ignoring me, I said:

"Hey, um, what's your name?" He growled quietly looking at me in the eyes. "Daryl Dixon." He answered gruffly, and I nodded, letting him lead me again. He was actually scary, though. His grip was tight on the strap of his crossbow as he slung it over his shoulder, his knuckles actually white. I purse my lips and watch him walk away, me following slowly behind.

I felt nervous because of the zambies, and because I do not know what to do with them. I do know you double tap them, but I didn't, can't. Some say I'm too soft, too innocent. We finally make it into the clearing, a highway filled with a quiet graveyard of cars. I close my eyes, blocking out any thought, focusing only on following Daryl. When I finally open my eyes, Daryl was in my face pulling me down with him and rolling under a car. I was about to yell at him when I heard the all to familiar grunts and groans of the undead, seeing their rotted, uncoordinated feet shuffling along. I bury my head in Daryl's chest, feeling pathetic and filled with rage that I only see red. I claw at my chest, feeling an unfamiliar burning sensation eating me alive. "Stop. Please. S-stop." I say into his chest as the shuffling continued, and all I want was to get out there and kill them all, with this knife or something... just..

Something.

Daryl clutched me close, one hand wrapped around my waist and the other covering my mouth. I felt angry, alone, scared, anxious, I felt my head flow with the memories I had managed to block out, making my head pound harshly. And I start to cry. I'm so suffocated. "No."

My voice wasn't like my voice at all, and my hands were now holding the little knife, which was slowly melting, and my chest.. my chest was glowing, like lava was in it. Daryl looked at me, at my eyes, then moved farther away, like I had burned him. The shuffling was now imprinted in my mind, making me feel more furious, and the blade melted more quickly, and I scrambled out, not caring if the walkers saw me. I felt more enraged when they turned their little heads towards me, only one command in my head.

**Kill. Kill. Kill.**

I release a loud war cry, charging towards them, the metal of the blade infusing with my hand. I clutch the thing's face, hissing as I felt its teeth brush against my hand, and I push it down, pressing my hand into its head and I smiled wickedly as it popped like a bubble gum under my palm, brains and bits of flesh and bones staining my hand. Another shuffled annoyingly towards me, and I looked at Daryl, a horrifying, manic grin on my face as I put a finger on my lips, signaling silence. My hands flew towards the other walker's greedy hands, pulling him down and sending my fist flying through its head, going through it cleanly. The soft thud of its body hitting concrete was music to my ears as I stood up, looking at my glowing hands. I stretch them out, looking astonished as fire emanated from my body, sending a big wave towards the herd of walkers, burning them and the other cars into smithereens in a matter of seconds.

"No."

I fell to my knees, suddenly disgusted with myself as I kneeled there, surrounded by ash. The glowing stopped and my normal self was back again. "Fuck." I said, looking at Daryl who was smudged with dirt and looking as horrified and scared as me. "I didn't mean to do that," I offer, putting my face in my hands. He ran up to me, miraculously still okay with what I did. "No!" I push him away, looking into his baby blues. "I'm gonna.. gonna burn you," I scamper backwards, waiting for him to call me a freak, an alien, something. I was waiting for the back lash, the punches, the kicks, because you didn't do it well enough. "I'm sorry.." I say quietly, standing up and backing slowly away from him in little, meek steps. "I'm sorry," I repeat, hearing my mother's nagging voice shouting how useless and different I was. I feel strong, warm arms wrap around my trembling body as I repeat the apology over and over, unconsciously snaking my own hesitating hands around his warm, normal, safe body, clutching him close as I cried, apologizing. "I'm sorry," he made me stop, putting a hand on his lips. "Calm yer' shit, kid." He patted my head before pulling away, a scowl on his face as he surveyed the surroundings, his hands stroking his crossbow absently. "Fucking fuck. We needed a car. And I saw that beaut." He grumbled, walking towards the patch where my fire ball shit didn't reach. "Ya know how ta hot wire a car, kid?" I nodded, not thinking. He raised an eyebrow questioningly, waiting for her answers. "I raced. And I- uh kinda needed cars and just.." I said awkwardly, not wanting to talk to anyone about work. Like, ever. "Get ta work, then," he gestured to a silver Audi R8, and I put my hands over my mouth, scrambling over to it. "Good lord. I only needed an apocalypse to have an R8!" I smiled faintly, pulling out a small iron pick that I always had with me opening the car without the alarm shrieking their ears off. Popping the compartment just below the steering wheel, I set to work, and it was so easy. Even those smart cars I once stole was harder. "Voila!" I say, sliding into the passenger seat. "I'm gonna drive?" He asked, looking at me expectantly. "Yeah," I didn't really want to drive, even if I really, really wanted to. My hands were suddenly shaking so badly. "Ya sure?" I nodded, looking back down on my shaking hands. "Aight. Ya git ta hold mah crossbow then, kid." He carefully put the crossbow on my lap, looking directly in front the road. I smile, because seriously, a crossbow. "Ya take care f' that," he said lowly, before driving off. I lean forward, pressing my head on the dashboard and I grunted exasperatingly, hugging myself. The crossbow was pressed snugly between my chest and my lap, feeling a little uncomfortable, but I don't really care right now.

So, about my 'profession'.

Figured I'm going to die sooner or later 'cause I'm one pathetic fucker, better said. I started my little profession when I was 15, I was just stealing random shit for people. I needed to feed myself now, don't I? It was my brother who entered me into my first race, I was just 16. He said if I'm going to steal all my life, why not do underground racing? I was friking frantic. 'Cause the people that race there were either racers that were put to jail and just got bailed out or those tattoo people. I, on the other hand, was a little measly ginger that wanted money. So I used a battered up Challenger, from an Asian in the same line of work called Glenn.

But I shit you not, I won the effing race.

From then on, I've been the measly little ginger who won every race they throw to her. I don't know why I win, though. I just crank up AC/DC and drive, careful not to let them close to the tail of my car. And then, I start stealing cars for myself. Can't sell them, everybody'll know it's stolen, 'cause police.

"Ey, kid."

Daryl's voice cuts our storytelling, kids. "Yep?" I pop the 'p' 'cause it's fun. He looks at me indifferently, pointing to the mouth of Atlanta, which was swarmed like ants on peanut butter. "Ah. Crap," I say, smiling as I see a long trail of cars, making a clear path towards a building. "We use that car path, then maybe use the ro-" he settled me with that scary you-fuckin'-kidding-me-right-now? Look, and I stopped immediately. "Well then, I'm no human GPS, then," I mutter, slumping on my seat, sliding my finger back and forth on the crossbow's string. He looked down, blushing lightly before frowning again, and I swear, he still looks how even while doing that. How can people do that? "Naw. That shit ain't good." He looks around, then looking back where we came from. "We make our way up the mountains, redneck?" I tease, half meant. "Ya betcha sweet ass," he said, reversing the car and driving off.

It was more than a week of traveling, for god's sakes. Luckily, no walkers come up this far up the mountains.

On our way there, we found a little group, who was now encouraging us to stay with them. I was not all for it, and neither was Daryl. But then, I saw a possibility of clothes, a shower, food. "Uh- I'll just have a word with him," I smile plainly, dragging the angry redneck along with me. "This is jackpot, man," I hiss, pissed with his anti-socialness. I was one, too, until I saw that can of tuna. "Naw. Ya stay here, I'll go on mah own. Ya have a choice, it's simple," I stop, looking directly in his eyes and pursing my lips, as if in deep thought. I nod, turning my back to him "yeah. You're right. It is simple," I deadpan, going back to the twitchy brunette from earlier. "Naw. Ey- ey! Stop," he sighs, looking at me as if I was the most difficult thing on earth. "Now. I'm going to make 'this' easy for you," I'm actually pretty angry now, so I come up to him, my face merely inches from his own, and I feel my heart thundering like crazy against my ribcage. "One potato, two potato?" I hiss, and he stands up, looks me in the eye and frowns heavily, taking ahold of my shoulder and turning me back towards an equally scowling 'Leader'. I have a feeling he doesn't want us here, though. The hunter all but chucks me away, his face stoic and unreadable.

Oh, he is gonna pay.

The man- Shane?- looks at me absurdly, and I thought they wouldn't dare pick on me when my friend (I don't think that redneck considers me as a friend) is a really short-tempered, crossbow wielding redneck hunter, right? "Hi."I smile, and he tells me everything about the camp, what I was supposed to do, and somewhere in that long tirade was me, wanting to kick his balls up his throat.

He wanted ME to wash clothes.

And goddamn, it wasn't even my clothes I was washing. It was theirs. "Say what?" I dare him, stopping and straining my ear to hear better. "Ya wash the clothes with them," he states again, pointing to that willowy, brunette woman and the two blondes and the pepper haired woman. I nod, walk towards Daryl who was setting up camp, far from the other tents. "Daryl. I don't like it here anymore," I say, and he smiles, a wisp of smugness in it, making my left eye twitch. "Naw. Ya wanted this, kid. Ya git it," he finished putting up the tent, before chuckling and picking up his crossbow and leveling her with a predatory grin. "M' goin huntin', " he grumbled, and I smiled best I can, seeing the group's eyes on us I put a menacing finger on his chest, hissing under my voice, "You manipulative son of a bitch," he nods, leans in but then walks away, leaving me standing there like an idiot.

God.

I do what's thrown to me, be it getting 'shrooms, washing clothes, cooking and shit. Daryl still wasn't here yet, and I hope it's because the deer and squirrels is making his life miserable. I meet every other person in camp, there's the lovely siblings, Andrea and Amy, the willowy woman Lori, her kid Carl. Carol, Sophia, Dale, the Martinez family, Jacqui, T-Dog. There was one more, but they said he was on a run. Night was falling when Daryl came back, a buck slung over his shoulders, and a string of about more than a dozen squirrels aloft his hand. He was grimy and dirty, his sleeveless plaid shirt dirtied with mud. I don't stand up, I just chat with Amy, who was being a great friend to me. I can definitely feel his eyes boring behind my head, I almost flinch. "So, I think- hey, are you listening to me?" Amy babbles when I nod, I'm not actually listening, she was talking about her past boyfriend. "Yeah. I-uh, I'll just go to the.. yeah," I mutter quietly, all but running towards the RV. Dale was there, looking at me with those kind green eyes that make me so uneasy. I smile lightly as I pass him, quickly entering the small, cramped rest room. "Why..?" I inhale deeply, calming my upset nerves. For one, I know what happens when I get angry, I have a Hulk episode. Pulling my hair up in a bun, I went out of the restroom, only to find myself hitting something face first.

"Watch where yer' goin' kid," Daryl said gruffly, taking ahold of my shoulders and pushing me at arms length. I stop, taking in his smell, it's like leaves, and dirt and aftershave that smells so.. manly and woodsy. It's unnerving. "I.." I mutter distractedly, pulling at the sleeve of my new (borrowed) two sizes too big shirt, pushing myself past him.

I feel so stupid.

My head feels hazy, my hands numb, and my heart fluttering in my chest like it wants to just burst out like one of those chestbursters in Alien vs. Predators. "Oi vey.." I say when I get out, the scent still imprinted in my mind.

"GAIL?!"

I whip around, finding a very Asian, very familiar face. I light up almost immediately, tackling him in a tight hug.

"OH MY GOD, Glenn!" I clutch him tighter, glad that one of my closest friends is alive and well. "You two know each other?" Shane's voice cut through our happy reunion, and Glenn pulled away, taking my hand in his. "Yeah, we worked together," he said, plastering a huge, happy smile. The others looked at us as if we weren't happy all our lives and being happy is a fucking crime. "Yeah. At a pizza parlor, actually." I lie, patting the younger man's head. Shane looks at us like were convicts, before taking a seat beside T-Dog.

"Glenn, my God! Before Blue Fire, I thought you were deported!" I gush, sitting down on the steps of the RV. He leans against the side of the RV, smiling fondly "Yeah, I was supposed to be. But I just.. got away," he said, taking off his cap and running his hand through his hair, before putting the cap on my own head. "Peter put me up in Drifts, got to challenge Distai," I say smugly, adjusting the cap on my head. "Really? How much?" His brown eyes twinkled in delight, and I put up both of my hands, flipping it twice, a shit-eating smirk plastered on my face as his mouth opened to a perfect 'o' gasping unbelievably. "TWENTY THOUSAND GRAND?! You're shitting me!"

"For real, sausage boy," I tease, remembering his fascination with anything sausage-related. "Damn, if it wasn't the apocalypse right now, we'd be smoking weed near 7-11," he nodded, pulling me up. "I really am glad, finding you here," he pulled me in a soft, warm hug, and I eagerly accepted, pressing my body close to his. "Yeah," I pull away, kissing him on the cheek and going back to Amy, ignoring the somersaults my stomach was doing as Daryl watched me from the side of the RV, sitting there on his own, almost hidden in the darkness as he cleaned his crossbow meticulously, his eyes flickering in time with the embers. I turn back to Amy, biting the piece of jerky she handed me almost harshly, my eyebrows furrowed with annoyance.

I had it bad.

I growl lowly, and Amy shot me a questioning look, her stories stopping. "What _is wrong with you?_" she says, and I immediately plaster on a gritted smile, looking at her, feeling my hand tingle as it glowed a faint orange. I tucked it into my hoodie, looking at her through blank eyes. "I'm fine." I say, but I knew it wasn't true.

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**A/N: THANKS SO MUCH TO deanandjo4ever1 for being my beta. Leave a favorite and review if you liked it, and I do know it has a long ass name. But fuck it, whatevah. And oh yeah, I will try to upload right away, please, for the love of god, help this story strive. THANKSSSSSSSSSS. (Re-edited shi–)**

_-that guy_


	2. I'm Probably Crazy

**A/N: HAEYYYY. Wassup? well, didn't get much reaction to the first installment, 'cause my bro re-edited it and well, that's what happens, all my BEAUTIFUL REVIEWS AND FREAKING FOLLOWS AND FAVORITES. GONE! Anyhoo, I still wanna thank you guys. I know I'm a crappy writer, and this is unbeta-ed. Very busy for this past week, work 'n stuff. I know for a fact that NO ON E READS THIS *waves hands in the air and calls out maniacally* but well, if you did, hi. AND LEAVE A REVIEW 'N FAVORITE 'N FOLLOW, or whatever. **

**D-d-disclaimer? I WANNA OWN DARYL. **

**But fate decreed I shan't. Sooo, I do not own Daryl Dixon and the other characters or the show, only Gail Parker and the plot. **

**(mind you, Daryl and the others may be a bit OOC here, I'm still grasping their shit.)**

**Oh, yeah. This story will dance around perspectives.**

_ITALICS FOR FLASHBACKS AND DREAMS/MEMORIES  
_

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Chapter 2: I'm Probably Crazy

_A small girl cowered in a corner, her hands covering her ears as her parents fought, vases breaking, curses flying, insults thrown around. Gail shut her eyes tightly, biting her lip until she drew blood. "NOW LOOK, GREG. JOHN RAN AWAY!" Her mother bellowed, and with all her might, the older redhead swung the porcelain in her hand, hitting her husband on the head. Gail felt her body burn up, the tears streaking down on her face evaporating with the heat. She shook her head, burying her face in the fabric of her ratty blue dress, her body curled in tightly. "St-stop, mamma." The girl whimpered, her dress slowly catching fire._

_"AND OUR ONLY DAUGHTER IS A FREAK, GREG! A FREAK!"_

_A choked sob wrecked through the 4-year-old's body, fire bursting out of every pore, but the little girl didn't pay attention to it. "Daddy.. momma.. s—"_

_"IS IT MY FAULT THAT BRAT IS A FREAK?! IF YOU—"_

_"STOP!" Gail screamed, her eyes a dead inky black, blood streaming down her cheeks. The curtains caught on fire, as the little girl sobbed in her corner, her father and mother immediately abandoning her to save themselves._

_Gail didn't care anymore._

_Runes and odd triangles and stars formed around her little body as she stood, her red-brown eyes gazing deeply into her burning arms, marveled by how the fire didn't burn her. But she didn't understand. Crows flew everywhere, feathers raining inside the room eerily._

_ Her eyes looked at her escaping parents, a horrid smile on her blood stained cheeks. The door slammed shut, locking her parents in. One crow landed on her shoulder, and she spared it a sideways glance, lifting one hand experimentally. The crows immediately attacked her parents, eating, clawing at their flesh. She watched, amused as every ebony bird seemed to laugh as they feasted, her parents screaming bloody murder._

_"Hahaha.." she chuckled, the smile widening with every shake her shoulders made. "Hahahaha.." the little girl sobbed and laughed at the same time, clenching her small hands into fists as she stood there, ignoring her parents that was burning and being eaten to death._

_Then, she stopped._

_"MAMA!" Her eyes returned into their arctic blues, her skinny arms reaching out to her shrieking mother. The fire extinguished, the crows stopped and dropped like rocks, and her mother and father keened, bleeding out from every bite her crows did. "Mum... I SWEAR I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" She cried, her small ponytails sagging. "You FR-FREAK!" Her mother shrieked, and then she dropped down, her body burnt horribly. Her blue gaze fell on her father, who was just lying there, green eyes leveling with hers. The little girl's left eye faded into a stormy gray, the blood track grotesquely dripping down._

_"Hellspawn." He said, before truly, permanently dying._

_"Hellspawn." Gail repeated, crouching down to encase her head once more in her arms. Voices repeated the words in her head, their volume gradually increasing._

_"HELLSPAWN! FREAK!"_

"FREAK SHOW!"

I awoke with a small shriek, sweat dripping from my forehead. I sat there, panting, shaking my head as the scene replayed in my head. I've never had that dream before. My childhood memories isn't all that clear. The sun was peeking out of the mountains as I removed my burnt t-shirt off my glowing body, cursing silently. I try to ignore the searing pain pounding through my head, the memory pulsated through every vein, as if rejecting the memory. I couldn't remember doing that. But I know it wasn't true. Mom and Dad died of..

I don't know.

"That's the third shirt this week.." I mumble, pulling my long hair into a sloppy bun, sweat coating my neck. I waited for my body to cool down, doing the luxury of picking out the next shirt I'm going to wear. I pick out a baggy light gray shirt with a picture of a squirrel on it, hey, I thought it was cute. After moments of waiting, my body finally cooled down, and I pulled on the shirt, before shoving my feet into my converse, standing up and raising my hands above my head and yawning. Carol called me to do some laundry with them and Amy, Lori smiling from where she and that Morales woman were cooking breakfast.

"Anybody seen Daryl?" I ask lightly, bending down to get the makeshift basket T-Dog made, smiling at Carol as she put the clothes in it. "He went hunting." Amy supplied, a knowing smile on her face.

"Seriously, Gail?" Lori asked inridiculously, her smile joking. "Shut up, Amy." I snap towards the younger blonde, tucking the tail of my shirt inside my jeans with one hand, the basket balanced on my hip. The women were awfully feeling close towards me now, and I smile, nodding towards Carol as we made our way down the quarry.

"Hey, where's Glenn?" I asked again casually, pursing my lips as I sit down the basket beside the rock that served as my chair, tucking a stray strand of red behind my ear. "On a run."

"Again?"

"Yeah, Andrea, T-Dog, Jacqui and Morales came along. Glenn was reluctant." Carol nodded, and I couldn't help but let my gaze fall on her battered arms. "Are-are you okay?" I say weakly, putting an article of clothing over my knee, scrubbing it thoroughly. "Yes. I'm fine, Gail." The older woman smiled timidly, looking over her shoulder towards her husband, Ed.

"I do hope Andrea comes back okay.." Amy mutters, and the two women sigh, before nodding. Carl and Sophia came into view, playing alongside the shore, giggling prominent in the still enviroment. "They sure make a cute couple." Amy says, reaching out to take another shirt from the basket. Carol stops, then blushes hard, before nodding once again.

"Isn't this Daryl's?" The young blonde pipes, smiling broadly. Carol laughs at this, jutting out her soapy hand, taking the clothing from Amy's hand.

"My God, Gail. How did you stop yourself from jumping him in that one week that you were together?"

I looked at Amy wearily, an evident frown on my sweaty face.

"Stop it," I barked, my face flushed a pure red. "Ohhh.. Alie's got cruush~" the blonde sang, and Carol giggled, dropping Daryl's sleeveless plaid on my wet lap.

"My God.." I hiss, shaking my head as I begrudgingly take the shirt over my knee, all but destroying the piece of clothing with my brush. I swear to God, sometimes, I just hate women. I swear, with them, I'd turn into a puddle of embarrassment. The 'women' wisely stayed silent, just a snort here and there.

"Breakfast is ready!" Lori called out, and God, I'm so fucking thankful. I bolt up, putting Daryl's cleaned shirt on the other basket, all but running away from the pepper haired Carol, and the wily Amy. I shook my head violently, tucking my wild blood-colored hair back, taking a seat beside Dale.

"Are you OK?" Dale said, his fatherly face concerned. "Yeah." I say plainly, thanking Lori as she handed me a plate of squirrel meat, and I smile involuntarily. "When will they be going home?" Amy fidgeted from her seat, looking up the gray skies, her plate jiggling with every move.

"Soon 'nough." Shane says, looking almost too brightly at Lori, who looked back, brown eyes full of lust. Ew. "Yeah. They'll come home soon." I tried to reassure the nervous Amy, a soft grin on my face.

* * *

**[GLENN]**

"Jesus Christ, guys.." I breathed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I watched my groupmates bicker endlessly as we entered the department store, dropping the duffel bags noisily on the floor. "And did you see how I bashed that fucker's brains in?" T-Dog announced hotly, teeth bared in a grin. He swung around his bat, almost hitting me in the process. Andrea scoffed, rolling her eyes as she pointed her gun at an invisible spot on the far wall, smiling smugly as she told her tale, and I took the bat away from T-Dog as he swung the damned bat again, glaring mightily.

"AND THEN, B—"

BANG!

The gun went off, and I seriously want to feed these guys to the geeks. "Andrea!" Morales (thank God for Morales) snapped, taking the gun, who had its safety off. "Oh, Jesus.. God almighty.." I groaned angrily, motioning for T-Dog to help me barricade the double doors of the store. The walkers undeniably heard the gunshot, because they're piling outside, and GOOD LORD, sometimes, I do believe blondes are stupid. "What the—" a gruff, raspy voice shouted angrily, and when we turned around, there he was, another pain in the ass.

"The fuck, people?!"

"Where did— what the f— I don't..!" I stammered as the big, burly redneck came barreling up to me, but thank God Jacqui came to my aid. I am kinda sorta nerdy and scrawny and geeky, but hey, you gotta make do with what you have. I'm a glass-half full kinda guy. "Ey, chill, man!" T-Dog snapped at the man, who looked remarkably like Daryl. Well, Daryl is much more attractive— wait, what?

"Just.. I'm going to scout a way up ahead." I dodge the countless racial slurs the burly man shot, and he pushed T-Dog away, but Andrea pointed her gun at him. "Don't make a move. Or your head'll be blown off." For once, Andrea put that goddamned gun to use. Jacqui nodded an agreement towards me, her face pulled into a distasteful frown. Well, good luck to them. Sneakily walking out, I make my way towards a fire exit ladder, my bag jiggling with contents. My thoughts drift to the possibility of seeing a close friend and love interest again, and once I set my eyes on that sonofabitch Gail, I had some hope. I mean, from all the people that I'd think will survive the zombie apocalypse, she was so not in the list. But I think it's time I sang Kumbaya and that whatnot.

"A horse, hey!" I chirp when I make it up, a brown horse trotting into view. A horse, man, who wouldn't be surprised to see a horse? I personally prefer ponies to horses, and I'm rambling. I pull out my own pair of binoculars, peering into them with curious eyes. A man with a bag of guns, and he was wearing his fucking sherif's deputy uniform.

That man needs to sort out his priorities.

I stood up straightly as the horse went down, thoughts racing frantically. Oh, God, please don't be dead, please, don't be dead. Yet. A gunshot pulled me away from my ramblings, and I looked down, scrambling for the C.B I kept with me at all times every time I went out on a run. I hope.. I hope he gets in the tank.

"Hey, dumbass," I exhale deeply, shaking my head from anxiousness. I smirk, hearing the man's soft whimper. "Hey, you in the tank. Cozy in there?"

* * *

**[DARYL]**

I should prolly give up on 'tha fucking deer. It's been exactly 12 hours, 32 minutes an' I don't know the seconds. I crouch low, tyin' the squirrel I took out anger on in a string I took from Gail, and 'f course, the scowl is evident on mah face. When I stand back up again, I throw the string over my shoulders 'n set up my crossbow, 'an followed my buck's trail. I irritably sigh as dirt an' muck cling on my skin like a second skin, an' even if I always look like this, it don't mean I like it. First, it's unhygienic and gross, and I don' wanna bother tha' nice lady, Carol, I presume, ta clean my clothes. I actually like the fact Parker washes them for me.

"'Th fuck did tha' come from?" I hiss to myself, stoppin' as I clear my head from the thoughts of that complicated redhead, and I fucken trudged on, looking up ta see a storm brewing up the horizon. Grass crunched under my boots, and there's no place i'd rather be than here, in the woods, hunting fuckin' Bambi for those pansy-ass city folk.

_Well, ain't ya the perfect maid, Darylenna?_

Merle's voice rang in my head, his voice taunting and disgusted, just like it's always been, ever since I could understand English. A snappin' of a twig cut off my daydream, 'an I squat behind a bush, hidden from my game. But my expectations were crushed as a walker ambled out from beside a tree, coming straight to MY DEER. Oh, hell no, you won't. I strapped the crossbow over my body, pulling out my trusted knife.

Then, I fucken tripped over a root.

The blade went flying out of my grasp, hitting the walker straight in the head. The doe lifted it's head, muscles tensing and ready to bolt. Oh, fuck no. Before the deer moved, a neon tailed bolt was already imbedded 'n its stomach, making it squeal and wrench in pain. "Jesus Chrysler LeBaron.." I say in disbelief, finally taking down 'tha godawful soon-to-be venison, jus' a few more steps and—

"HOLY SHIT!" The doe kicked out its feeble legs, hittin' me right in the chest. 'Course I stumble back, ain't like I can take that son of a bitch's kicks. Bambi stands up, running away as fast as she could. Growling, I stood up, following the deer with my eyes as rain fell. Picking up my crossbow, I follow the faint blood trails the doe left, a smirk playing on my lips. I sure do hope this makes up all the shit I've been through. And dear God, I have been through many shit. I don't want ta burden ya with my luggage or somethin', but ever since Merle took his goddamned bike and left my ass there in Macon, I've been livin' on squirrels and the occasional booze. Finding Parker, well, at first, she was really a bitch, but she proved herself, and shit if she hadn't done her fireball thing on the highway, we wouldn't be here. Well, I think so. Maybe she'd be better off without me. She is good with that bow, before she lost it.

I take it back, she couldn't live one day without me.

A smug smile plays on my lips as I sidestep a puddle, my squirrels bounding with every move. This ain't too bad after all.

* * *

**[GAIL]**

WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK.

This is really, really bad.

Like, total shitstorm bad. Glenn and the others are trapped, and- and- Daryl isn't back yet, Shane is screwing.. Shane is screwing Lori.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

"Ale, take ahold of yourself!" Amy snaps from beside me, in her hands one of those fucking spearmint bubblegum that helped me calm down. "Oh, Jesus..!" I exhale loudly as me and my blonde friend sit inside the tent, sharing blanket and tears. "I-i saw them.. oh, God.. I'm so fucking traumatized right now.." Amy smiles at my demise, handing me one strip of bubble gum. She chews on her own, blue-green eyes red rimmed and teary. The harsh pitter patter of the rain drowned the other's keening, and that dipshit Shane's argument with Jim and Dale. We should go back for them, we really should, but I don't know what to do, I don't. "Amy.." I whimpered, feeling that all-too-familiar burn in my chest. Of course, these people don't know about my, erm, condition, but if they knew, they'd sure as hell hog tie me and dance around in my grave. Not too pretty, now that I thought of it.

"I called Shane a son of a bitch, though."

"Yeah, that's in your bucket list, isn't it?"

Our soft laughter rings around the tent, but then the reality hits us like a wall. That possibly, her sister and my best friend might not pull through. "If.. if Andrea doesn't come back.. please, don't be a martyr and stay with me here," Amy chuckles at her own confession, tears streaming down her pale face, a soft grin pulling along her red lips. "I.." Nobody ever told me, or wanted me to stick around, they all never saw past me general geekiness and scrawniness, well, aren't we all anti-social?

We just find people who understand.

I put my arms around Amy in a comforting gesture, a smirk tugging at my lips as she returns it, and for the first time in a long time, the void that was my heart sparked a little, but it was a start. Okay, now I'm getting sappy. "Hey, while we wait.. wanna be all poetic an' shit?" I ask, and my voice sounded really bad, raspy and low. Amy pulls away, gives me a knowing look and wipes the snot om her face on the back of her hand, before stating, "Oh, Daryl, Daryl, where art thou Daryl? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name!" She mocks, and I chuckle, looking her in the eyes. "BUT SOFT! What light through yonder window breaks—"

"You're real crappy at this, Gail."

"Hey, I majored in History, not Literature."

"That doesn't make sense."

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. See! I got that right." I say in a faux British accent, biting my lip to stop myself from laughing. "Oh, if Andrea was here, she'd have talked your ass off about that, she may be a lawyer, but by God.." Amy sighs exasperatedly, snuggling deeper into the wool blanket we stole from the RV. Dale must be popping a vein right now. "I already miss them, Gail." Amy rests her head o my shoulder, and I don't tell her it's gonna be alright, because I know I might be wrong. Instead, I pat her blonde hair affectionately, looking out the transparent window through mismatched eyes.

"True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy." I whisper, closing my eyes and delving into my friend's warmth, and she nods, the action telling me more than it should. I know she trusts Andrea, hell, I know that she could take care of herself, but I can't let her hurt like this. "Don't go, okay? I can hear you thinking."

Well, so much for that.

"When you were standing in the wake of devastation, when you were waiting on the edge of the unknown, with the cataclysm raining down," I sang to Amy softly, like the way I did when Carol's kid, Sophia fell asleep beside me when her Pa and Ma were arguing, and she'd whimper, tears rolling down her cheek. Amy burst into quiet sobs, not wanting to alert Dale or the others.

"Your insides crying, 'save me now' You were there, impossibly alone..." Daryl sang this song once, when he thought I was asleep. He'd read Charlotte's Web every night and grumble a little, because he always wanted Charlotte to live, and then, he'd sing softly, caressing the rough edges, and it was far from him. The quiet, aggressive, assessing redneck. This was him.. him. What Daryl Dixon really was wasn't that arrogant man that his brother raised, he was the man who saved me and accepted me for who.. I am. Amy finally fell asleep, nose pressed into my red hair.

"Do you feel cold..." I whispered, drifting into sleep, with Daryl's soft, insulting reassurances ringing in my head.

"And lost with desperation?"

"DAD! DAD!" Carl shouted, his small form bolting from his mother's arms, jumping towards the tall man wearing the sheriff's deputy uniform, a watery grin plastered onto his face. They were there.. where.. where was— "Glenn?" I ask, my voice shaking as the others looked at me with that.. that look, and I brace myself by the RV, hissing in affliction. "HE TOOK YOUR PEOPLE FOR ONCE, THEN ALL WENT TO HELL!" I screamed, tears falling down from my mismatched eyes. "What the hell happened..?" I continue, bowing my head as I tried to keep myself in check, biting my lip so hard it bled. I can't loose my shit right now, especially when Daryl's still not here and Glenn.. God, Glenn.. "He was ki-kidnapped.." Andrea supplied, and my head whipped up in breakneck speed, heart pounding on my chest far too hard to be considered normal. "What—" I started, my voice awfully restrained.

"It wasn't anybody's fault." That fucker wearing his moronic hat with his stupid fucking family started, letting go of his jack shit wife and pesty son, looking at me with that goddamned eyes, pitying me. Hell no, I won't let him see me as a charity case. "Why the fuck did he get kidnapped then, Officer?" I bit out, taking one step closer to him, daring him, taunting him to make a move. "He was with Merle—"

"Merle? You found Daryl's brother?" I ask inridiculously, all the anger washed down momentarily. "This is fucked up. You worthless.." I start, rage and hate stirring up my blood, making it boil.

"Now, Gail.." Shane started, and I'm sure he's so sad he can't fuck Lori anymore because her fucking HUSBAND is here now. "Why would you care, Walsh? You got your best pal right here—" I point harshly at Cop guy, a sneer on my face. "—complete with his fucking family, and what does that leave me? With a fucking emotionally unstable redneck and a kidnapped asian! Are you shitting me right now?!" I snap, looking at them through mismatched eyes. Lori starts to open that goddamned mouth of hers, and I lunge, going straight for her throat. But Shane.. ever the knight in shining armour intercepts me, throwing me to the dirt.

Daryl's taught me enough to deal with this asshole.

Without so much as a squeak, I turn mid-air, pulling the bigger man underneath me and straddling him on the hard ground, lifting one fist to bring down to his whore mouth. But I stop, the fist merely inches away from his face. "As much as I want to see your head pop from underneath my fists, I'm too snobby for that." I hiss angrily, and the older brunette fidgets under me, feeling the burning sensation I was giving off. My hands were glowing a faint yellow orange, and I flinch away, sending them glares before running to my tent.

It's one of those nights.

* * *

**[GLENN]**

"Jesus, what..?" My eyes are so goddammed blurry.. what the hell just happene— I was kidnapped. I writhe through my bonds, asking every deity that existed to let me out of these.. really, chains? Do I look that dangerous? I'm a duct tape person, thank you. Nope, no time for that, gotta find something to take off these things. "Oh, you're awake." A young, hispanic man with slight stubble approaches me, a smile on his weathered face. I push myself back to a corner, face pulled into a deep, horrid frown. "Hey, buddy, don't worry. We won't do anything, vato." He smiled, soft and understanding, but what unsettled me was the lust and malice behind his kind eyes. I felt my guards drop down a little, but it immediately flew back up again as he approached closer, the dim light showing that faint outline of a pistol. The hispanic man hums as he squats down, his face weathered and knowing as he uncuffs him, his eyes telling stories way past his days. "G! Mrs. Aura fell down the stairs—" my eyes widen as the same time the man's eyes widened, chest heaving as he stood there gaping, having the door burst open. G, the hispanic man wearing the black shirt chuckled, looking back and forth from us two and standing up, at the same time hauling me with him. "Well, welcome to our hideout." The man said coldly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "G— we—what?" The bald man standing by the door stutters, his brown eyes wide with disbelief. "He's not an enemy, Carlito."

I ignored the way his eye twitched when he looked away.

"Okay.." I say uneasily as they lead me into a garden, the space particularly pretty. G opens a door for me, and I step in timidly, eyeing him and the bald dude warily. "Why, hello, young lad." An old lady comes up to me, her hair tied up in a neat braid, in her hands some medicine, her hands bloodied. She looks past me to glare at the two guys behind me, who rubbed their neck sheepishly. I smile faintly, remembering my own mother scold me and Gail for stealing.

_"How many times do I have to tell you, Ale?"_

_"Im sorry, but.. Just one, then, we're home free."_

_"You kidding me? Does John sneak inside?"_

_"Well, we're not my pot-luvin' brotha and—" she paused, throwing her head back._

_"Its your mom's cookieeesss..." my best friend whined, sitting back down on the porch of our house and leaning on the rails of the staircase, blue hat drawn low onto her eyes. "I know, but Mom's eyes are even sharper than Reeves' skinhead guards vision," I reason, looking at the direction of the kitchen, where the heavenly smell of Ginnie Rhee's infamous Choco-Heaven delights. "Glenn, I helped you get those tickets last night, remember? I had to bite Tweedledee's arm." She sat up, pulling up the hat back on her short red hair, a shit-eating grin on her face. I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose as I exasperatedly gave her a 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me' look, and her grin just widened, knowing very well that she won. "I'll have you know that if my mom finds out, we're both toast." She shrieked as she bolted up, her short red hair flopping with every moment. "Ohmygod! Cookies!" Gail giggled wildly as she pulled me up, happiness and mischief clear in her 16 year old face. "Oh god, if I knew we'd be stealing mom's cookies today, I wish I didn't ask you to help me."_

_"You can't steal. Now, cookies.. cookies,"_

_"Yeah, I can't. Whatever. The kitchen's that way."_

_Now, the kitchen is a complicated place, since my mom loves cooking. I watched as my friend glided almost gracefully, dodging everything my mom put in there to keep the two of us out. Gail is really notorious when it comes to stealing, and its not really surprising. She's been stealing shit ever since she could sneak around. Or_ stand_ for that matter. If ever, that'd be the reason I'm going to keep around. I watched as she jumped over the counter, one foot stepping on a glass— GLASS!_

_"GAIL, STOP!"_

_Her feet kissed the ground goodbye as she jumped, hands reaching for the ledge of the highest cupboard in the house, the big blue one with only fifty of the cookies stored in it. I forgot all about the glasses as she all but clambered up the cupboard, holding up the transparent jar with a blue bow on it. "YEAAAAH!" I rasped, my voice hoarse from shouting her name too loud._

_"GLENN RHEE, GAIL PARKER!"_

_Uh, oh. Dum-dee-dum, we're dead. "Hi Mom.." I say timidly as I turned around, face flushed pure red, and my friend scrambled to get two of the sugary treats before hopping out of the 5 foot high cupboard, the pastries tucked safely in her jacket pockets. "Hey, Mrs. Rhee. Looks like your anti-Gail and Glenn set up didn't work," the redhead joked, earning a tired smile from Glenn's mom. "It seems so, sweetpea." The old woman said lightly, patting her head affectionately as she left the room, humming an old Korean lullaby. I barely notice the way my friend's eyes flicker a fiery orange and then turn back to its true color, but ah, fuck it._

It was fine, until they shoved a sack over my head and all but shoved me down the building.

"Glenn," I hear someone whisper my name, soft and hard at the same time, just before I was tossed over the roof, to the geeks.

"What do you want, Glenn?" The image of a raven-haired Gail appeared before my eyes, her eyes filled with horrifying coldness that was so unlike her. She smiled dubiously, red lips stretching impossibly. "Wha—" I blinked, and suddenly she was inches away from my face, the smile softening as she leaned close, to whisper in my ear, "_What do you want_, _Glenn?_"

"I.. I want to live."

I blinked again, and suddenly, I was being guided inside the room upstairs, the good-hearted chuckles of the men and women reaching my ears. What the hell did just happen? Was.. was it true?

"Everything has a price, Glenn.. everything."

"What?!" I whip around, eyes wide and uncomprehending as I saw the utterly confused faces of those people that kidnapped me, stopping whatever they were doing to smile at me easily. In the midst of the people, I caught sight of that ebony black haired Gail smiling at me, her eyes a fiery red orange, as if lava was inside it. I blinked, and willed it to go away. "C'mon, Vato. Let's go," the bald man pushed me forward, and I kept my head low, wishing for my groupmates to come and get me.

* * *

**[DARYL]**

Her hair.. was black. I swear ta God, it was fucken black.

She was jus' knocked out fer an hour, 'an then.. 'er hair was just so.. black. Not jus' any black, the black tha' made yer skin crawl 'n heart patter in horror, an' I'm goin' ta give Grimes hell for knocking 'er out. "Want.." she grumbled in a low voice, her eyes fluttering unciirdinatedly. "Wha' the fuck.." I hiss, nearing 'er still body as she moved about, her lips slitting 'inta a brain exploding grin. It was honest ta God, horrifyin'. "What the hell is happening to her, hick?" The small spic, Miguelito, as I remember said, 'is eyes widenin' as he backed out in a hurry, levelling the unconscious redhead—now brunette— I reached out to touch the dark strands, not used to 'tha difference 'f her hair, 'an I scowl as her hair curled into ringlets against my palm, like a snake would.

"Don't breathe a single fucken word ta them 'bout this, ya spic,"

"What the hell, man! The woman's a.. a diablo!" The younger man hissed, tugging at his bound hands. "You better throw her out now, loco. You do—"

"You'd best shut up, cariño, or else, I'll really take off them feet 'a yers." My body launched towards the smaller man's form, hands bunching against his tank top, pulling him up brutally. I need ta keep 'er secret as long as I could, I couldn't risk 'er going all out on me now, she deserves what little privacy she needs.

Well, at least I know she cares for me.

"She really stood up for ya earlier, didn't she?" Miguel said, looking away 'n at the still sun, his face calm and stoic. It was true, she scuffled away with Rick just because he let Merle go 'n cut his fuckin' hand off. It was like kindergarten, but this time, I was Susie and she was Daryl, who saved the fuck-up once more. Though I know we were the same, same as we always will. She seemed to stir, 'er body twitchin' as it glowed 'n iridescent orange as her mouth lay agape, words pourin' out like liquid lust, in a language unknown.

"GLENN!" She started, awake and hair slowly fading back to its normal blood-red colour. I looked at 'er funny, putting a hand on 'er sweaty forehead 'n checking 'er temperature, satisfied that she could control her powers unconciously. "H-he.. I-i.." the girl stuttered, looking at me 'wit wide, scared, uncomprehendin' eyes, like a deer in the headlights, 'f you will. "C'mon.. kid, yer fine, yer fine." I console, patting 'er silky albeit greasy hair, not knowing what to explain to the woman. I use my 'Spooked Animal' voice, 'n she caught on, givin' me 'tha glare. "I.. I saw.." the spic gave her a little derisive snort, rolling his eyes as Gail glared at him. "That Asian popsicle won't last a day in there. G may be cool with the old tipos, but I know what he does," the spic flinched under the hard glare of both me and Gail. My breathin' got harsher as she clutched my shirt, shakin' like a leaf. I'm totally shittin' in my pants, knowing very well that she can't control 'er powers well when consious. Jesus, if this spic gets more pushy than this, we'll all be breakin' out the fire extinguishers 'an 'Going Down In Flames' routine. I 'ave dealt with her arse longer than any 'o these fucktards, but really, 'tween you 'an me, they ain't much. Bunch 'o fucken assholes, if ya ask me. If we could abandon their asses here 'an now, we would, but Carrot Top dumbass needs ta git ta her Chinese Chink, 'an I need ta find Merle. Yeah, Merle was—is— blood, but that ain't gonna mean I hafta leave my.. well, I haven't really put a label on me 'an the redhead's relationship, but I do know I can't leave 'er now, it's like letting a stray, impulsive dog loose. Dangerous.

"Earth to Daryl, hellooo?" Says Parker, the playful tone back on again. "Yeah, I hear ya." I reply, the realization of my thoughts sinking deep into my mind. I don't want to leave her, at all. We need ta get going, git 'tha chink 'an scram from this fucken hell-hole, but it ain't just fer me, it's fer 'er too. No matter 'wha she thinks, she's family now, and 'tha ain't prolly gonna change. Well, one more reason is that the redhead is a nice piece ta look at.

"Fuck, no."

"What did you.. what?" Parker tilts her head, smiling faintly. "Daydreaming, are we? Those thoughts 'bout me better be nice!"

"The fuck, El Gingero?!" I know I'm flushed fuckin' red, 'an the small girly giggles Buddyboy here is givin' ain't doin' none ta console my wounded ego. "Shut up, ye fucken piece 'o shits." I snap, standin' up ta open 'tha door fer Rick 'n Theodore. Fuckin serious, who names their kid T-Dog? Maybe they hated this particular man. "We move out now, who knows how much Glenn has," Rick says as an entrance, 'n Gail is already on 'er feet, the bow 'n quiver of arrows Glenn fetched her in the ready. "Yeah," I mutter, hoistin' up Donut, my crossbow 'n startin' towards the pair, Parker trailin' like a puppy behind. "What's the plan, boss?" The Mexican pipes from 'tha other corner of the room, and we pay 'im no mind, eyes focused solely on the bag 'o guns on the table.

It's time ta lock 'n load, bitches.

* * *

**[GLENN]**

Okay, now I know I'm going to die.

Blood, bullets, walkers everywhere.

I never knew it would end like this. Painful, sobbing, gut wrenching violence. I watched as my best friend get bit, but she still covered the cowering Amy, trying—God, trying— to protect her with her prone, shaking body. Daryl was standing off side by side with me, Rick and Shane, shotguns and revolvers in hand, holding off as much as we can, but I know our bullets will burn out before we even make a dent. "PARKER!" Daryl shouts, but he can't move. He can't, neither can I, and we tense, shooting, and watching as Gail drags her blood matted body to the other side of the RV, Amy protected and safe in her bitten arms. What surprised me was how she can still stand up, with all those bites. She stares at her bloodied hands expectantly, and I furrow my brow, shooting a nearby walker and cocking the shotgun, aiming it at the one close to Shane. The redhead gives a pained yell, snapping her head up and gathering her bow up in her hands, pulling the taut string back with weak arms, two arrows placed expertly within the string.

I know she can't anymore.

"GAIL!" I shout, running for her, finding the courage to make my legs move, to run over to her. Daryl is there before me, shooting one of the last walkers in the eye socket, watching it drop. Gail falls with it at the same time, a still mess, body numb and bloody.

"G—Parker.. no, no, c'mon." Daryl whispers as his fingers run through one of the four bites littered across her body, her blue eyes dulled of life. She can't be dead. The group huddled close, mourning for the loss of the redhead as she laid there, looking almost peaceful through her mismatched eyes. Amy and Andrea were a sobbing wreck, clutching each other tightly, heads bowed down in gratitude for the woman that saved the younger blonde. Daryl just looked at Gail, eyes glazed with pain and coldness. I know I should've been faster. Now, she's gone, my best friend is gone. Gone was the woman who liked to race fast cars, who played video games, who sang melodically, who always played that God awful harmonica that I gave her. Gone was the girl that I practically grew up with, stole with, raced with, saw our first tracks together.

She was gone.

"G-ga—" whispers Daryl, clutching the stiffening body close to his.

"Let's clean up 'ere." The hunter growls when they came nearer, standing up with the pale woman in his arms. I follow, mechanically, robotically, pulling on the leather gloves I had stashed in my pockets. I never felt the tears cascade down until Amy was beside me, looking on as Daryl laid my friend in the dirt, kneeling beside her and pressing his forehead on hers, one hand reaching out to close her once brilliant eyes.

"G'bye, Carrot Top."

"What..?" Gail suddenly stood up, hair as dark as night, both eyes shooting open to reveal red-brown eyes filled with indifference. "Oh, hi." She says softly, pushing Daryl aside and standing up, looking around, hands on her hips cockily. "So you're the guy my person has been going on about," she points at Daryl, eyes narrowed and pointed. "What the fuck?!" Shane bellows, confused and ready to pop a gasket as he all but throttles the now raven haired woman, and I stand between them, hissing. "And I bet you're Shane. The fucker Gail's been moanin' about." She comments, licking her bloodied lips.

"Aren't you supposed to be.. dead?" Rick inquires, and I look back at her, wanting to know the same. "Well, that's a secret this woman likes to keep. Now, Gail is battered and sick as shit, but she's fucken alright, okay? Now, excuse me, I need to do my job." Other-Gail walked over to me, shooting me a toothy grin and bending down just beside squatting Jim, eyes now serious.

"Jim, right?"

"Yeah, whaddaya want?"

"You're bit, wanna die now or not?"

**_WHAT THE HELL?!_**

The group didn't even had time to react.

Now, I really don't know what to think. "Gee, uh, see, I'm, uh— a Soul Collector, an Angel of Death, if you will, and I only come out when my person is gravely injured or when there's a killing." She explains, and seriously, I dig her eyes. She walks over to the eviscerated Ed, squatting down beside his head and looking back at us with a tired glance, rolling her eyes and lifting up a hand. "Look." A crow pops out from Ed's chest, beady eyes looking all of us over. I feel a severely cold chill run down my spine as the crow settled its lifeless eyes on me, as if judging me through those eyes.

"Time to go home, you filthy bastard."

And the crow jumped on her open palm, and when she closed it, blue fire stretching up to her shoulder. "See? Soul Collector."

Alright, whatever, fuck it, I'm DONE.

_*cue huge explosion in the background*_

_*author shakes head*_

"Okay, let's close up shop, people." Once-Gail snaps, hands grasping one of the corpse's feet, dragging it to the unlit fireplace T-Dog and Morales set up. It set on fire with the slightest glance from the ebony haired woman.

"And by the way, I'm Raven." She,said as she tossed the body to the burning, eating flames, her red brown eyes as cold as ice.

We left that afternoon.

* * *

**[Third Person POV]**

Blood, guts and death clung onto their skins as they sat in their respective cars, the burden of their groupmates' death taking a toll on their bruised hearts. Raven and Daryl lead the way on his Triumph that they collected from getting Merle, faces grave as they left the dying Jim along the highway, wanting to die with Raven as far from him as possible. She consented, begrudgingly, and sat down behind Daryl, long dark hair plaited expertly by Amy in a tight braid. Rick had suggested they make their way to the CDC, as per plan, but the light was quickly diminishing, and so was their gas and hope.

Glenn sat beside Dale in the RV, Amy and Andrea huddled close together by the benches and Jacqui softly whimpering from the back of the vehicle. Carol and Sophia were with Rick and his family, Shane driving his SUV, T-Dog steering Daryl's blue truck. "Do you really think going to the CDC is a great plan?" Glenn says in a small voice, and Dale looks at him sideways, smiling tiredly. "I don't know anymore, son." He answers half heartedly, his white knuckled grip going impossibly tighter. Glenn glanced down at the map, biting his lip until it bled.

Their reverie was broken when Daryl gave one soft honk, signalling their arrival at their destination. Dale now looks at Glenn fully, fear lacing his weathered face. One by one, they piled out, weapons in hands, bodies tense and ready to spring. Even Raven had Gail's bow in her hands, the quiver settled on her hips respectively. Rick frantically knocked on the closed doors of the CDC, voice broken and frantic.

"Rick, you better hurry up, 'cause these flesh bags ain't gonna wait for you!" Shane shouts frantically, falling into practiced position with his partner.

"PLEASE, YOURE—"

One hundred, one hundred one, one hundred two.. there were so many corpses.

"—KILLING US!"

They were so close, so close.

"WE HAVE CHILDREN, PLEASE!"

"There's no one there, Rick!"

"Rick! We need to leave n—"

Lori's comment was cut off as the barricade opened, the bright light making them wince and squint. Raven sighed.

Finally, sanctuary.

* * *

**A/N: Leave a follow, review or favorite if you liked it, do not cuss me out, and I love you. And thank you. *tips top hat* (psst. I need a beta)  
**

**BTW, CHANGED PSEUD, AND WELL..**

**-serbesaaa**


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